


A Finer, Simpler State of Being

by DV-Skitz (Skitz_phenom)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitz_phenom/pseuds/DV-Skitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser can't help but wonder what's going on with Ray when he seems to suddenly get distant after their relationship starts moving forward. His observations lead him to a strange conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Finer, Simpler State of Being

**Author's Note:**

  * For [j_s_cavalcante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_s_cavalcante/gifts).



> For j_s_cavalcante - I hope my gift makes you smile. I tried to include as many of the optional tags as I could. It's my first foray into this particular genre, and I had a ball writing it.
> 
> Many thanks to my favorite cheerleader for her ongoing support!

  


Fraser stood on the steps of the Consulate, holding his hat in his hands and watching the passing foot traffic with idle interest.  He’d planned on waiting for Ray inside, but between the Canadian Cosmetic, Toiletry and Fragrance Association (and their associated wares) waiting on a hotel mix-up to be straightened out, and the touring noise music ‘group’ _Knurl_ who was insistent that the Consulate’s high ceilings and polished woods were fantastic for his acoustics, Fraser decided that a little fresh air was a good idea.

Fraser tried not to fidget. He was fairly sure that Ray was running late.  He said as much to Diefenbaker, who was lying at his feet, tongue lolling. “Ray appears to be running late again, Dief.  Have you noticed that he’s been a bit distracted lately?”

The half-wolf merely rolled to his side with a groan.

“I really don’t know what you mean by that, Diefenbaker.  You can’t just say that Ray smells different without providing any context. It could be as simple as a change…“ He trailed off as he spotted the GTO turning the corner and walked down to meet it when Ray pulled a stop.

He opened the door for Dief, who hopped in the back, and then slid into the passenger seat. “Good morning, Ray.”

“Morning, Frase,” Ray mumbled.  Fraser turned to look at him and was surprised by his disheveled appearance. Ray wasn’t always the most alert or communicative in the mornings, at least until he’d had some coffee, but he seemed especially careworn today.

“Is everything alright, Ray? You look a bit unsettled this morning.” He had an urge to reach out and smooth down an especially rampant tuft of hair, but didn’t know if his touch would be welcome.

He and Ray had made what Fraser thought was some substantial progress in that direction, but then Ray suddenly seemed uninterested in taking things any further. Fraser had tried not to be hurt by his odd change in moods regarding their burgeoning physical relationship, and told himself he wasn’t going to push the issue.

Ray looked down at his rumpled T-shirt and scrubbed a hand through his unruly hair. “Eh, just didn’t get a-lot of sleep last night. I’m alright, Frase, but thanks for asking.”

Fraser nodded. He moved to put his hat on the dash but there was a folded newspaper in the way.

“Oh, lemme get that,” Ray said, reaching for the paper.

“It’s no trouble,” Fraser replied, pulling the paper off the dash and replacing it with his hat.

Ray made another grab for it. “Here, lemme just throw that in the back.”

The paper was doubled over and creased open to a middle section, and from the sensational title, _"_ Wino Witnesses Winged-Man on Chicago Streets; Are Angels Among Us? _"_ was a tabloid paper of some sort.

Ray snatched it from him and threw it over his shoulder. From Dief’s disgruntled woof, it obviously landed on him. “Sorry, Dief.” Ray said, and then gave Fraser a sheepish look. “Yeah, not exactly the _Sun-Times_ , is it?  Must’ve got mixed up at the newsstand last night.”

“No explanations necessary, Ray.” Fraser hurried to say.  Ray seemed unusually agitated by having been caught out with such a silly bit of journalism.  Fraser knew just how to ease that tension. “You know,” he began, “sometimes there are gems of truth hidden in the ridiculous and farcical. Did I ever tell you about the time that Buck Frobisher caught up with Beaver-tooth Marvin Brevel because he’d read the man’s fortune in a local newspaper?” 

Ray relaxed back into his seat, a small smile now playing at his lips, and the furrow smoothed from his brow. “No, I don’t think you have, Frase.”

Pleased at achieving his desired result, Fraser continued on with his story.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Several days later, Fraser took advantage of an unseasonably warm spring morning to walk to Ray’s apartment to meet up with him for an appointment related to a case, rather than wait for Ray to pick him up.

“Come along, Diefenbaker. I don’t think that cat is interested in anything you have to say, no matter how curious it smells.”

Dief gave a whuff at the orange tabby that was perched on the windowsill in the hall – it mewed back irritably - then trotted after Fraser as he made his way down the hall towards Ray’s apartment. Fraser reached up to knock on Ray’s door, but paused as he saw that the door was a crack open and he could hear voices from inside.

Or voice, as it turned out. Apparently Ray was on the phone. Still, from what Fraser could hear, he sounded agitated.

“Look, Ma. I’m just getting used to it is all. A few slip ups were bound to happen. I mean, it’s not like we expected this to happen --”

Ray paused, having been cut-off mid-sentence.

“Ma, I’m bein’ careful. Don’t worry about it.”

There was another long pause. Obviously Ray was listening.

“No one is going to find out, Ma.  Look, so what if some wino saw me.  No one is gonna believe some drunk.  It was dark in that alley. He’s not gonna be able to recognize me.”

Fraser frowned. That was certainly an odd conversation.

“Mom. Mom. Ma!” Ray was clearly trying to talk over his mother, and apparently she _wasn’t_ listening.

Feeling rather guilty for it, Fraser leaned closer to the door.  Unfortunately, Dief took that as his cue that they were going in.

“Dief,” Fraser hissed, but the wolf didn’t pay him any heed. He pushed past Fraser into Ray’s apartment. Fraser could only peek around the door and knock. “Ray?” He called out.

“Ma, I gotta go,” Ray muttered, slamming the phone down, then he looked up at Fraser and waved him in. “Hey, Frase. C’mon in.” He reached a hand down and rubbed it over Dief’s ears.  “Hey, Furface.” The wolf took the attention as his due.

“Good morning, Ray. I hope you don’t mind the surprise visit, but Dief and I thought we’d enjoy the morning and walk over here.  Diefenbaker in particular needed the extra exercise as he managed to finish of all of Detective Huey’s donuts last night.”

Ray waved that away with a grin. “No problem, Fraser. You know you’re always welcome.” His eyes and smile were kind and inviting as he said it and Fraser couldn’t help but wonder how he meant that.  Was he again rethinking things about the two of them? Or perhaps that’s what the phone call had been about?

“And,” Ray turned his attention to Dief, “Huey’s gonna be pissed at you, buddy.” Dief put his paws over his nose and whined.

“Um, is everything alright, Ray?” Fraser gestured behind them to the door. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I couldn’t help but overhear you were yelling as I came up to the door.”

Ray stilled just a fraction – for anyone else it might have gone unnoticed, but for Ray with his frenetic energy, that moment of stillness was rather telling - and then waved it away. “Nah, everything’s good, Frase. My Mom was just getting on my back about something. No big deal.”

“Well as long as everything is alright, Ray.”

Ray nodded. “Yeah, it’s all good, Fraser.”

“Are you ready to head out, then? We’ve got the meeting with Mr. Brinkman about the break-in.”

“Right, yeah.” Ray bobbed his head eagerly. “Let’s get at it.  I got a feelin’ that Brinkman is gonna talk this time.”

Following Ray out of the apartment, Fraser put the odd conversation he’d overheard out of his mind.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I swear to God, the guy had freakin’ wings. He like, swooped down at me. I’m not crazy, man. You gotta believe me.”

Fraser paused just at the doorway to the precinct and turned at the voice.  Behind him, two uniformed officers were hauling a raving man out of the back of a police car.  Continuing his rant, the man struggled with the officers pulling him out of the vehicle, but they had a firm hold on the arms that were cuffed behind his back. “He was like batman or some shit. But they weren’t like bat wings. And he just wooshed down at me.”

“Yeah, yeah, he _wooshed_ , huh?” one of the officers said, sharing a knowing expression with his partner behind the perp’s bowed back. “Was that before or after you sold our undercover man a quarter kilo of china white?”

“Yeah, how much of your product were you sampling, man?” The other asked.

“No man, I didn’t take a single snort.  I swear!  The dude had wings.”

Fraser held the door open for them, getting a nod of thanks from one of the officers.  He sniffed as they went inside, catching a strange whiff of something sweet and almost herbal as they all went past.

“It was the freakiest thing,” the man was still going strong. “Cuz they were there one minute and then gone the next and this guy is yellin’ at me that he’s gonna kick me in the head...”

Fraser lost the trail of the conversation as the officers took the man down to booking and he headed to the bullpen to find Ray.

Ray wasn’t at his desk, so Fraser sat down to wait.  Ray had said he’d meet Fraser at ten and it was still three minutes too.  “Dief,” Fraser scolded as the wolf pushed past his legs and curled up under the desk. “You know that Ray can’t pull his chair in all the way when you’re under there.”

Dief ignored him.

With nothing better to do, Fraser pondered the odd statements he’d overheard from the cuffed suspect.  A man with wings? The thought piqued another memory. Hadn’t Ray been reading an article in that tabloid about a vagrant witnessing a similar thing?  And what of the conversation he’d overheard when he came to Ray’s door earlier in the week.  There’d been mention of a wino --

“Hey, Frase.”

Fraser, startled from his reverie, looked up to see Ray coming in.

“Sorry I’m late. I was helping out Mitchell and Collins with a bust. Cocaine dealer. Guy was stupid enough to try to sell to me.” He gestured down to himself. He was dressed as casually as ever – jeans, faded t-shirt under an old blazer that he hadn’t worn in some time.  “As if this doesn’t scream ‘Narc’.” He laughed.  

Fraser stood suddenly, moving into Ray’s space.  He inhaled deeply. There it was again. That sweet, herbal smell.

“Uh, Frase?” Ray was eyeing him strangely. “What’s up?”

“Were you near a bakery, Ray?”  He backed up a pace, putting a more socially-acceptable amount of space between them.

Ray laughed again. “Yeah, I took this guy down behind Armelli’s Pastry over on Seventh.  Once I flashed the badge he tried to tell me it was just flour he was trying to pass off as coke.” He shook his head. “Then the jerk tried to run.”

“I assume you apprehended the suspect?”

“Oh yeah,” Ray boxed at the air, jabbing left and then right and then another quick left. “He was quick, but I managed to cut him off in the alley just off past the back door to Armelli’s.  He had a little run-in with a brick wall. Think he knocked himself a bit silly.”

“Ray,” Fraser scolded.

Ray’s hands went up, waving his innocence. “Nuh-uh, Frase. It’s not what you think. Guy kept lookin’ behind him as he ran and didn’t see the wall comin’. He took a header right into it and I was still like, twenty feet behind him.” He shook his head in amused disbelief.  “He must’ve snorted some of his own stuff right before he met up with me. Guy was tweaked.”  Ray cocked his head suddenly, brows dipping inward and staring at Fraser. “Everything okay, Frase? You look a little bit freaked yourself.”

Fraser shook his head. “I’m fine, Ray. Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” Ray shrugged, all loose-limbed grace. “Ready to get to work on the Morris case?”

“Yes,” Fraser affirmed with a nod. “Let’s get to work.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later than night, after successfully tracking down Murray Morris’ stolen oil paintings and then busting the guy responsible – Morris’ business partner – Ray suggested celebrating a job well done with dinner at his apartment.

“Ray?”

Ray looked up from the selection of menus he was perusing, “Yeah Frase?” He flipped up two of them. “Pasta or Thai tonight?”

“I’m fine with either choice, Ray.” From the couch a bark sounded. “Dief prefers Thai.  Ray, I need to ask you something.”

“Hey, furface,” Ray hollered, “off the couch.” Typically, Dief ignore him. He turned his attention back to Fraser. “Uh yeah, Frase? What’s up?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you about –“

“Hold up one sec, Fraser. I gotta call this in.”

Fraser sighed, but nodded. 

He waited until Ray had called in their dinner order.  “Okay, that’ll be about twenty-minutes.”

“That’s good, Ray.” He set his hat on the counter while Ray turned to put the menus back on top of the refrigerator.  “Ray, I wanted to ask you something.”

Ray spun back, “Right, yeah, Frase. Go ahead.”

“Well, I noticed earlier today –“

“Hey,” Ray broke in. “Thirsty? Want a glass of milk or something? Pretty sure I’ve got some in here.” He spun back to the fridge.

Fraser sighed again. “No, I’m fine, Ray.”

“Water? Beer? Got some decent microbrew in here.”

Fraser rubbed at an eyebrow. If he didn’t’ know better, he’d say that Ray was trying to avoid the conversation.  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You sure? I could put some water on the stove. I probably have some teabags.”  He shifted a few things around. “Might even have some of that bottled water you like?”

“Do you have wings, Ray?”

Ray’s back went rigid and his shoulders taut. He straightened up incrementally and then turned slowly from his perusal of the contents of his fridge wearing a peculiar expression. “Huh? What was that, Fraser?”

Fraser felt his cheeks heat.  He was committed to this now, though. “I asked you if you had wings, Ray.”

“Wings?” Ray frowned then scoffed noisily. “That’s crazy, Fraser. What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a very straightforward question, Ray. I believe one that can be answered simply enough with a yes or a no.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Geez, Frase.  I just don’t know how you could ask me something so strange. I mean, you’ve seen me with my shirt off.  Wouldn’t you have noticed something like that?”

Fraser ignored the additional rush of heat that went somewhere else as he recalled under just what circumstances he’d seen Ray with his shirt off. “That’s not an answer, Ray.”

Ray stalked out from the kitchen, moving into the living room so he could pace. “Just, why would you even think something so strange?”

He was still avoiding giving an answer – which Fraser supposed was answer enough – but Fraser decided to indulge Ray’s curiosity. “I’ve made some observations over the past few days that would lead me to believe that you do.”

“Well, since you’re so sure, I suppose it must be true.” Ray was in full-on sarcastic mode.

“Ray,” Fraser moved into Ray’s path. He held his hands out, similar to the way he would when calming a wild animal. “Please, Ray.”

Ray started to go around Fraser, but stopped when Fraser stepped in his way again. He threw his hands up. “Ugh, fine, Fraser. You want an answer?” He yanked at his coat, getting his hands tangled in the sleeves as he tugged his arms out. He flung the jacket away and then grabbed at the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up and off his head in one smooth move.  Bare-chested, he turned his back to Fraser. “There, see. No wings.”

Fraser, who’d felt a rush of excitement as Ray disrobed, frowned at the exposed smooth planes of Ray’s back and sighed heavily. “I… I’m sorry, Ray. You’re right, it was a ridiculous accusation. I’m so very sorry.” He couldn’t believe he’d been so sure of something so impossible.

Ray turned around. “It’s okay, Frase. I mean, it’s a little weird, yeah. But, hey. What’s a little weirdness between friends, right?” He seemed oddly understanding about the whole thing.

“Right you are, Ray.” Fraser said far too heartily. 

“C’mon,” T-Shirt bunched up in his hand, Ray patted Fraser on the arm as he walked past, “we’ll have some dinner and go over the Birch case. Get a head start on it.”  On some strange impulse, Fraser reached out to touch the curve of Ray’s shoulder blade as he went by.

Ray froze.

“Ray?”

Ray didn’t say anything, but there was an odd twitch down the length of his back.

“Ray?” Fraser repeated.

“Crap.” Ray turned again, facing Fraser, and then gave a heavy sigh. “Look out, Fraser.”  He closed his eyes and there was a strange shimmer in the air behind him. Suddenly, there was something there.

Something solid.

And feathered.

They unfurled like banners, with a loud rush of air. A pair of wings that reminded Fraser strongly of those of a raptorial bird. They were sleek and spanned easily twice Ray’s own body length.  Oddly, they matched Ray’s hair and skin in their color, shading from dirty gold to pale cream, and were banded with stripes of light olive green.

Ray turned slowly, carefully, in a full circle, hands held out defensively. “Okay,” he finally said, “I lied. I got wings.”

“Ray, they’re wonderful.” He couldn’t stop staring. They were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

“Wonderful?” Ray scoffed. “They’re a pain in the ass, Fraser.  I spent the past thirty-some years being told I’d never have to deal with this crap, and then one day a couple weeks ago, I wake up with the worst backache I’ve had since Roger Melten threw me off that moving truck. And there they were. Surprised the hell out of me.”

Fraser frowned.  The incident with Roger Melten Ray referred to had been partially his fault, though he’d advised Ray against taking the fight to the top of the moving vehicle. “What do you mean?” he asked, focusing on the rest of Ray’s words.

Ray pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re a uh… family trait, I guess you could say.  Spring up in the men on my Mom’s side.  Story goes that my Grandma’s grandma, or something like that, pissed off a witch, or I dunno, fooled around with some kind of freaky bird-man. Who knows at this point? Anyway, it skips a generation now and then. Usually shows up no later than by the time we’re about twenty-five. Since I'm long past that, we were sure it was gonna skip me; but no such luck.”

“How do you hide them?”

Ray shrugged and the wings flapped. “I really can’t explain it.  If I concentrate, I can make it so they’re not there.  But I can still feel ‘em.  It’s lots easier to keep control if I’ve got a shirt on.  Then I don’t have to think about it nearly as much.”

“So the vagrant in the alley, and the suspect who tried to sell you narcotics?”

Ray rubbed a hand through his hair, looking sheepish and wild all at the same time. Fraser supposed the latter was due to the fact that anything Ray did looked a little bit wild with the huge, feathered appendages spanning behind him. “Yeah, the wino was the first night it happened.  Like I said, I woke up with this pain and there they were. I might have freaked a bit. Ended up outside. Didn’t realize he saw me. 

“The coke-dealer?” Ray went on, and again, the wings moved with his shrug. It was really quite fascinating to watch. “That was my fault.  He got the jump on me and I wasn’t gonna let him get away. Hell no was that dirtbag pulling a runner on me. So I maybe took my coat off and let them out. They’re good for an extra bit of speed, yanno?” 

Fraser nodded, and then another thought came to him. “Is this why you…” he trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor. He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to ask about that.

“Oh, hey,” Fraser felt a hand on his arm, and then Ray’s fingers sliding over his cheek to lift his head up. “Hey, Frase. I’m sorry.  The timing of this couldn’t have been worse. I mean, you and me…” he pushed the fingers along the line of Fraser’s jaw and then his around to his neck to ruffle through the back of Fraser’s hair. “I panicked, yanno.  I mean, things were just getting good between us and then this happened.” He jerked his head back. “I didn’t want to put the brakes on, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you.” Ray ducked his chin and then looked up at Fraser. “I uh, can’t quite control them when I’m feelin’ worked up, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” Fraser said.  And then, “OH!” because he caught onto Ray’s meaning. He felt a sudden rush of relief that Ray hadn’t been unhappy about their progressing relationship.

Then Ray’s hand fell away and he turned away sharply, the wings slicing the air mere inches from Fraser’s face. “So yeah, that’s why I backed off. Cuz I imagine that _this_ , these stupid things,” the wings folded down and then flared open again, “they change things.”

“Why?” Fraser asked, genuinely confused.

“Why?” Ray parroted, once again turning to face Fraser. His expression was shuttered. “Because these things, they’re freaky, Fraser. They’re weird and disturbing on a whole different level of weird and disturbing.”

“But, Ray,” Fraser protested, “I don’t find them disturbing in the least. I already said I think they’re wonderful.”

“Well, yeah, but looking at them and uh… messing around with a guy who’s got ‘em are two different things.”

“Not to me, Ray.”

Ray’s eyes went momentarily hopeful, before narrowing once again. “C’mon, Fraser. You can’t seriously tell me that you’re not freaked out by the idea of screwing around with me while these things are here?”

Fraser stepped closer, once again invading Ray’s personal space. “Not at all freaked out, Ray.” He reached out a hand towards one of the pinions. “May I?”

“Uh,” Ray’s eyes were nervously tracking his hand. “Uh yeah, sure.”

They were softer than he’d expected, but still firm and light like the wings of any bird he’d ever held. He touched the shorter coverts, and the tuft of alulae at the joint, marveling at the almost slick, silky feel of them; and then at Ray’s encouraging noise, slid the palm of his hand down over the scapulars to the point where they joined seamlessly along his shoulder-blades.  There the feathers were thick and downy. It felt like plunging a hand into a newly stuffed goose-down pillow.

Ray jerked back when he traced his fingers along the skin just next to them. Fraser pulled his hand away, afraid he’d pushed too far.

“It’s okay, Frase.” Ray hurried to reassure him, already grabbing Fraser’s hand and putting it back on the wing. “Just tickled is all.” He held still while Fraser continued his explorations, and folded the wing in tight when Fraser traced along the upper length of his primaries, so he could reach.

“So, uh, you really wouldn’t be opposed to these being here if we, uh picked up where we left off.” Again, Ray’s face had taken on that tentatively hopeful look.

“Not opposed at all, Ray,” Fraser told him in a low, hungry voice. “I’d like that very much, in fact.” To prove this, he tangled one hand into the wingtip and wrapped his other hand around Ray’s bare ribs and drew him close.  He pressed his mouth to Ray’s and Ray met the kiss eagerly.

Dief’s low whimper alerted them before things could get carried away; but they still sprang apart as a knock sounded on the door.

“Delivery,” Ray said, stepping back. “Dinner.”

“Right,” Fraser nodded. “I’ll just take care of that, shall I?”  He and Ray had a brief, momentary – and entirely non-verbal - argument about who was going to pay, and Fraser finally relented when Ray all but shoved the two twenty dollar bills into his hand.  While Ray stepped out of sight into the bedroom, Fraser answered the door, took the bags and handed over the twenties, all in a rush, telling the delivery guy, “Thank you, kindly,” and, “keep the change.”

He set the bags down on the counter of Ray’s kitchen and then made an executive decision, and picked them back up again, bringing them to Ray’s fridge. “I’m not hungry right now, are you Ray?” he asked, hoping that he and Ray were on the same page in this.

“Nah, I’m good Frase. Just uh, leave something out for the wolf, would ya? I don’t want him bugging us cuz he’s jonesing for some chicken satay.”

Fraser grinned. He always appreciated that Ray was considerate of Dief, no matter how he tried to disguise it as self-interest.  He dished out a plate of the aforementioned satay, as well as a few other treats that he likely normally wouldn’t have included, and then piled everything else into the fridge.  Setting the plate down on the floor he looked Dief in the eyes when the wolf padded over. “Ray and I are not to be disturbed, Dief. Is that clear.” 

Dief sneezed, which Fraser took as an affirmative, and then left him to his dinner.

Ray was leaning against the bedroom door. The wings were a dark shadow behind him. Not expanded now, but folded down casually. His jeans were low on his hips; either Ray had started to unfasten them, or Fraser’s hands had minds of their own when they’d been kissing.

Suddenly thankful that today had necessitated dressing down, because getting out of the serge right now would’ve been an impossibility, Fraser moved to the doorway and tugged off his sweater in practically one motion. Ray helped with the Henley underneath and once that got tossed somewhere into Ray’s bedroom, he drew Fraser’s mouth to his.

Fraser and Ray had gotten pretty good at the kissing. It was, by far, one of Fraser’s favorite things to do. Although pretty much everything he did with Ray was his favorite.  He liked having free reign to touch as well, and he took advantage of that.  He splayed one hand along Ray’s ribs, sliding it back far enough that he could just feel the soft tickle of plumage against his fingers. He threaded the other through Ray’s hair, and again, could feel the hard line of a wing pressing into the back of his forearm.

Ray, meanwhile, was a little bit more focused in his destination.  Fraser could feel the backs of Ray’s knuckles pushing against his belly, sneaking into the non-existent space between them.  From the movement of them, he was working at either his own jeans or Fraser’s; they were just too close for him to tell the difference.

Not that it mattered to Fraser, because eventually it would mean they’d both have their jeans off, and until then, the teasing pressure and miniscule movements were exquisite torture. Eventually Ray pulled away far and long enough to shimmy his jeans down his hips and then kick them off. That he managed without disengaging his mouth from Fraser’s was quite a feat.

He did pull away a moment later, and Fraser opened his eyes to see Ray staring at him intently. “This okay, Frase?”

Fraser swallowed, but couldn’t seem to gather enough air to speak. He nodded, eagerly, instead.

Ray huffed out a laugh that puffed warm air over Fraser’s throat and then he tugged at the hem of Fraser’s jeans, snagging the elastic of Fraser’s boxers too.  But instead of pushing them both down, he put a hand on either side of Fraser’s hips and then slowly knelt to the floor, drawing the jeans down with him.  Fraser had to reach out a hand to steady himself, and there was a wing there, almost as if it was waiting for him.  He didn’t want to grip to tight or lean to heavily on the appendage, but Ray just looked up at him and smiled, “Go ahead, Frase. They’re tough.”

To prove his point, the wing pushed firmly into Fraser’s hand and he had to lean against it, or else let it push him off balance. He reached out to grasp the other – for balance he told himself – as Ray urged him to lift up each foot so he could pull the jeans and boxers away.

He started to pull away then, but Ray’s quick, “No, leave ‘em,” stayed the motion.  Fraser looked down to see his hands were clenched around the sturdy arm of each wing, just below the wrist-joint, fingers buried deep in the soft warm feathers, and Ray was kneeling at his feet, smiling wickedly.  He watched as Ray reached out to put a hand on each of Fraser’s thighs and glided them slowly upward. “I kinda like this,” he said as his palms skated over Fraser’s hips and his thumbs teased just a little bit further down, “you just keep holdin’ on, okay?”

Fraser nodded mutely.

Ray chuckled again, this time exhaling the warm breath on Fraser’s groin.  Fraser squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch as Ray leaned in closer and closer. It was too much.  And then he couldn’t help but groan, loud and keening, as that hot mouth closed over him, sliding down the length and then pulling back with a firm suction that left him breathless. “Ray,” he panted, “oh, Ray.”

Mouth stretched around him, Ray hummed back something that might have been a response, or just a sound meant to tease Fraser with the low vibrations. The hands on his thighs migrated, one circling firmly around the base, meeting Ray’s lips with every downward slide, and the other curving around a firm cheek.

Fraser tried to control the natural inclination for his hips to thrust forward, but Ray just urged him on, the fingers curled around his ass squeezing and tugging and the wings flexing rhythmically. It was too much.  He came with a hoarse shout, arching back as his whole body tensed at the rush of it, and then bowing forward, spent, only the strength of those beautiful wings holding him up as his knees threatened to buckle.

Ray reached up to support him further, and Fraser could hear him laughing low and warm. “Knew you’d like that.”

When Fraser finally had control of himself, he released the hold he’d had on Ray’s wings, leaving rumpled, bent feathers behind, and pulled Ray up to his feet. “Ray,” he breathed out, “Ray.” He threaded his hands in Ray’s hair and kissed him, chasing the taste of himself on Ray’s tongue.  “Ray that was…” He didn’t have words for what that was.  He did have actions though. Fraser spun them around and then fell back on the bed, pulling Ray down on top of him.

“Nice move, Frase.” Ray growled out, already dipping his head to bite at Fraser’s chest. Above him the wings flared and stretched, primary feathers arching towards the ceiling. It was selfish, he knew, but all that Fraser could do was lie back and watch and feel.  Ray’s tongue trailing a long wet line up his chest, his lips rasping over Fraser’s stubble, his teeth biting at Fraser’s ear and the line of his bared throat;  and all the while the wings stretched and flexed and moved languorously above him.

“You still with me, Fraser?” Ray asked a few minutes later, pulling back from where he’d most assuredly left behind a bruise on the point of Fraser’s shoulder – he’d been sucking at it rather steadily for quite some time.

“I’m here, Ray," Fraser managed breathlessly.

Ray grinned down at him, teeth bared and eyes flashing even in the dim of evening. “Yeah, you’re here, aren’t ya.” He gave the wings a quick forward ‘flap’ that sent a rush of cool air all around them, fluttering the bed sheets and making gooseflesh rise on Fraser’s naked skin. Fraser shuddered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“So, uh, look, Frase…” Ray sat back, biting at his lip nervously.

Fraser had to surge up from the bed to kiss that away. “Anything,” he said against Ray’s mouth, and then fell back against the mattress, repeating it. “Anything, Ray.”

Ray’s eyes were dark, just the barest flicker of moonlight gleaming against pupils blown wide. “Yeah?” he asked, now just as breathless as Fraser had been before.

“Absolutely, Ray.”

“Oh man,” Ray groaned, pushing his hips against Fraser’s, grinding himself down. “I wanna be inside you so bad, Fraser.” He dropped his forehead to Fraser’s shoulder, panting hot breaths against the already reddened skin there.

“Yes, Ray. I want that.”

There was another rush of cool air as Ray pushed himself up and off the bed, wings stroking the air as if for balance.  He rummaged around in a bedside drawer, swearing, but he was back in a few moments, settling on top of Fraser again. “You sure?” he asked, even as he popped the cap on the lubricant and poured a cupful into his palm and then moved the hand carefully down Fraser’s body.

Fraser nodded, and then gasped a breath as he felt one of those slick fingers tease at him, and the cool drizzle of the lube tickling down.  “I’m sure, Ray,” he bit out, hissing at the slight pinch as Ray pushed the first finger inside.

“How d’ya wanna do this, Fraser?” Ray asked a short while later, sounding half distracted. Not that Fraser blamed him; he’d worked in a second finger and was angling them just so… there were sparks shooting behind Fraser’s eyelids.

“Just like this, Ray,” Fraser urged, as Ray carefully worked the lubed fingers inside of him.  “I want to be able to see you.”

Ray huffed another of those dirty, throaty chuckles. “Yeah, I want that too, Fraser.”  He bent one of Fraser’s legs up and hooked the knee over his shoulder, leaning against it.  Fraser could feel something thick and hot teasing at his opening, “Wanna watch you watching me.” He pushed slowly, and Fraser fought to keep his eyes open, to see the almost-grimace of pleasure on Ray’s face as he slid inside.

“Oh god, Fraser.” Ray gasped.

Fraser answered that with a frantic, “Ray!”  His hands scrabbled desperately at Ray’s sides and his shoulders, then he just couldn’t do anything else but grab for the headboard and hold tight. Ray was pounding into him, hard and fast in a steady and measured pace. And with every thrust the wings beat, flexing down and up, the extra momentum adding a counter-measure that stuttered inside of him in the best possible place. He could hear the wind from them gusting out, rustling papers and other loose objects in the room, but he didn’t care.  

Fraser groaned out Ray’s name over and over with each frantic exhale, and could only grip the headboard tighter as the tempo of Ray’s hips and the beating wings increased.  He’d thought himself spent from Ray’s earlier efforts, but the feel of Ray inside of him, and that amazing motion of Ray’s wings had him hard and aching again.

“Oh god, Fraser… Fraser!” The wing’s snapped out suddenly, going rigid and Fraser felt the pulse of Ray’s release inside of him. Ray hips juddered another few, wild thrusts and then he collapsed down onto Fraser’s chest, panting hoarsely. Fraser lifted his hips up, to rub against Ray’s belly, for that last little bit of friction he needed to come again.  The wings fanned out then and came down on either side, enclosing them and when everything went dark, Fraser felt the faintest brush of feather-tips against his face and that was it. He groaned a low, primal sound, as the hot wetness spilled out between them.

Fraser wasn’t sure if he blacked out, or he’d just been drifting in a post-coital haze when he realized Ray was calling his name. “Frase… Earth to Fraser, you still alive in there, buddy?”

“Yeah, Ray. I’m here.” He blinked up to see Ray looking down at him.

Ray flopped back down to the bed. “Good, just checking, Fraser.”

“That was amazing, Ray.” Fraser said, meaning it as sincerely as he’d ever meant anything.

Ray settled into the bed a bit more, resting his head on Fraser’s shoulder and pulling the discarded covers over them. The wings were still present, but tucked away, folded close to his body. “Yeah, it certainly was.”

“Ray,” Fraser asked dreamily some time later, struck suddenly by the most wonderful image, “can you fly?”

Ray shifted next to him, sliding a leg up over Fraser’s thigh and tightening the arm that was curled possessively around Fraser’s chest.

“I dunno, Frase. Sometimes we can, sometimes we can’t. I’ve been afraid to find out.” He leaned his head close, peppering Fraser’s jaw with sleepy little kisses. “Sure felt like I was flyin’ tonight.”

Fraser nodded drowsily. “Me too, Ray.” He yawned. "And, you should find out."

“Let’s find out together,” Ray murmured into his ear, promising so much with those few, simple words.





End file.
